What a Storm tells You
by Xavier Ching
Summary: It is a tempestuous night. The trio shrinked into a duo the night before. What does a storm tell Harry and Hermione?


40. What a Storm tells You

It was pouring outside the enchanted tent. The defiant thunder was deafening. The blazing lightning pierced through the murky sky. It was freezing cold. The air was full of chill and moisture. The weather worsened the dampened mood of Hermione. It made her feel extra solitary and fragile without Ron's presence.

To keep her body from frozen, she put the warm magical flame into a jar and wrapped her quivering body around it tightly. She forcefully covered her ears with her hands. Despite the silencing charm, the loud noise of thunder could not be eradicated. She curled into a position of a delicate womb, but that could not give her a sense of security.

At the other side of the tent, Harry was reading with full attention _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _with a glimpse. It seemed that the storm did not cause any nuisance to him.

Being so scared, Hermione went to Harry.

'Harry, can I sleep here tonight?' Hermione asked with her voice trembling.

Harry was surprised by her presence, and more by her request. He studied her face curiously. All he could read was plea.

'Sure,' he replied earnestly, 'I can go to your bed.'

He tidied up his stuff and rose from his bed. Hermione stopped him by his arm.

'No, stay with me,' she said quietly, '_please_.'

Seeing her pleading expression, he obliged. He sat down beside her on his bed.

'What's wrong?' he asked, even though he thought he had an answer.

'I'm scared,' she replied bashfully, 'of the storm.'

'I thought–' he smiled –

_Thomp_ – A deafening thunder interjected. Hermione was so scared that she thoughtlessly buried her head in Harry's chest. He smiled and hugged her tighter. He never knew someone as tough as Hermione could be afraid of storms. But indeed, she was deadly scared. He could feel her shivering.

'C'mon,' he prompted, 'I'll reinforce the silencing charm.'

He let go of her and placed another silencing charm.

'It should feel better now,' he soothed gently.

Not that the enchantment was vain, but the thunder was too fierce. When another thunder rang, Hermione could not help but seek refuge in Harry's embrace again. Harry chuckled and stroked her hair. He suddenly felt a bit hot and wet in his chest.

He looked down at Hermione. She was crying. Tears trickled down her cheeks. He reached out to wipe off her tears before she did.

'I'm sorry,' Hermione sobbed, 'tears rolled without my consent.'

'No, _I _am sorry,' he stated firmly, 'you wouldn't have suffered if it wasn't me.' He sighed.

His conscience hurt a little. Truly, if it wasn't him, Hermione wouldn't have to drop off from school or risk her life over some absurd Voldy. She was just a sweet seventeen-year-old girl. She was entitled to enjoy her youth – to read, to learn and to date, instead of helping him to hunt down horcruxes and Voldemort. His arm around her twitched slightly at that thought.

'No, Harry, it's my choice –' she faltered, gazing up at him –

Another annoying lightning scared her from continuing her phrase. Harry pulled her back to his chest and covered her ears with his thick palms before the thunder could scare her further.

'I must look like an insufferable baby,' she mocked herself. She tried to force a little smile. He saw glints of self-despise and sarcasm in her tired eyes. It hurt to know that, _he_, was the reason why her eyes lost radiance. She looked so exhausted, hollow and shattered.

Fresh warm tears dropped from her puffy red eyes. She instantly mopped them with her sleeves with excessive force, as if that could stop them from falling. He held her hand before she hurt her face more. Using his thumb, he delicately dabbed the tears away.

'Thanks, but it's my duty. I have to take care of you and Ron –' She looked aghast upon mentioning the saddening name, '– I'm sorry.' She bowed her head in attempt to conceal her tear-tainted face.

Harry sighed heavily. He sympathised with her. She loved Ron more than he did. Ron was perhaps the person she loved most. But he walked out on her, thinking that _she_ betrayed him. How devastating could that be? He did not know.

'It must hurt when your lover left,' he tried to look from her stance.

She looked at him with perplex, then angst, eventually enlightenment.

'You misinterpret everything, Harry!' she exclaimed with agitation, 'I love him like a brother! Not more, not less!'

Harry was shocked by such a severe misconception.

'You aren't _in love_ with him?' he wanted to confirm.

'No! Never!' she affirmed.

He stifled the laughter and beam. Even she was not dating Ron, that did not necessarily mean that he could have a chance!

'Sometimes I feel so alone when everyone's paired up,' she wiped, 'Ron and Lavender, you and Ginny, Neville –'

'Ginny?' Harry interrupted recklessly, 'Ginny – and I?'

'Sure, from the way you look at her,' Hermione explained, 'I know you fancy her, and vice versa.'

'No!' he denied with awe, 'I look at her the way I look at Fleur! I don't bloody fancy Fleur! Nor Ginny!'

'But –'

'I look at her like that because she's pretty,' he admitted timidly.

'Fine, but that won't change anything,' she snapped, 'you're the Chosen One. Every girl wants you! And I, the prudish know-it-all, will end up a spinster.' She sighed.

'Every girl wants me,' he repeated unconsciously.

'_Except you_,' he thought with a sad smile.

'Yes, every girl,' she smiled bitterly, 'but _no one_ wants me.'

'Who do you fancy?' he wanted to know, now that it wasn't Ron.

In a sheer second, she was aghast, but Harry caught that expression.

'Nobody,' she lied, blushing. She dared not have eye contact with him.

'You reckon you can fool me?' he teased. He turned her to face him squarely and tilted her chin.

To him, Hermione, was at that point, incredibly alluring. He never knew she could be _that_ lovely, until that moment. He always liked her untamed brown hair. He thought it matched his messy black hair flawlessly. Now he thought of it, she was always the defiant one, even though she did not want to be. It was solely because she cared about him, more than herself. Her brown orbs were evading his emerald ones. She could eventually let her guard down, even though it might be just one night.

'Don't tease me,' she chortled, though her cheeks flushed and she still eluded Harry's eyes.

'Tell me then,' he requested.

He once again captured her brown orbs with his green ones. She looked so coy. He had a notion.

She took a deep breath.

'Brace yourself,' she informed Harry, 'you.'

She peeped at him tersely. She expected that he was awe struck. To her utmost astonishment, he was laughing! Merlin! She frowned and was dissatisfied. After all, they were friends! He needed not to be that mean even if he did not like her back!

'Don't make me jinx you, Harry Potter!' she shouted frantically. She, the Gryffindor princess, Miss know-it-all, the brightest witch of her generation, had never been that humiliated!

That gave her the result she desired. For heaven's sake, he ultimately stopped laughing.

'Alright,' he tried to be stern, yet a few chuckles escaped, 'you won't jinx me, because you love me.'

She nudged at his rib cage.

'Argh,' he whined, 'do you treat your lover that way?'

'No, because you're not my _lover_,' her voice trailed off. She was indeed embarrassed.

'I am! I love you and you love me!' Harry reeled off cheerfully.

'You love me?' her brow soared, as if that was a lame joke.

'I love Hermione Granger,' said Harry.

'I love you, Hermione,' he restated.

He pecked on her cheek, using the time she decoded his message. She obviously malfunctioned. Her _brilliant_ brain malfunctioned because of him!

'Did you just kiss me?' she enquired with disbelieve.

'No –'

It was because Harry leaned in to kiss her on the lips. They were actually snogging _now_.

He ruffled through her messy brown locks. His hands travelled down to her waist, which was smaller than he expected. She felt so secure in his embrace. His lips made her warm again. Perhaps she would no longer be afraid of storms with Harry at her side.

'Stay with me,' he gazed at her pleadingly when she broke away.

'Yes, always,' Hermione smiled, 'for you keep me safe from storm'.

Hermione stayed with Harry throughout the storm. No matter how vigorous the storm was, she managed to pull through it. She stayed with him, unfailingly, fulfilling her promise to him.

It was her that empowered him to fight in the war. It was her that sustained his life. It was her that completed his soul.

A storm cannot dilute love.

A storm tells you who you love the most.


End file.
